


HEY THERE, DEMONS

by lvstcenturion



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 3rd person, Boy x boy, Buzzfeed, I like her, M/M, OC, Paranormal, Shane - Freeform, Slow Burn, Unsolved, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, from the pov of a ghost, gay shit, ghost - Freeform, haunted, i promise the oc is nice, i think shes likable, its CHILL i promise, its a good read i think, oc: olive thomas, ryan - Freeform, ryan bergara - Freeform, shane madej - Freeform, shane x ryan, shyan, they low key fall in love, wow creative right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvstcenturion/pseuds/lvstcenturion
Summary: Shane and Ryan spend an almost sleepless night in the Haunted Home on Avery Court, earning it's name by being the 'haunted home' of an oddly friendly ghost, Olive Thomas. Paranormal conspirators have said to have witnessed Olive doing mundane activities around the house such as baking cakes and cookies, dancing to old show tunes, and attempting to get two ignorant ghostbusters to finally realise their feelings for one another.





	1. Chapter 1

"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."  
— Stephen King

 

"-as apart of our ongoing investigation into the question" the dark haired man turned his pointed glare towards the second of the large cameras "are ghosts real?"

Olive huffed out an exasperated sigh. "i wish they weren't" she mumbled to herself, sure to remain quiet and not frighten the pair of men in the living room. In her living room.

She'd seen their kind before, ghosthunters. She recalled the first few would have likely visited around the 1980's mark. A few scientists with a small camera looking at her entire life under a microscope. She'd hated it, but it only got worse with time. The cameras got bigger and the scientists got... well they weren't even scientists anymore, just actors paid in gold to make a mockery of her home, her story, her life.

"I can answer this one for ya Ryan," the taller perked up "they are not". The brown haired man, she assumed was Ryan, rolled his eyes and made an offhand comment about his partner's antics before continuing with his rant.

The two men were currently perched across from each other on Olives sofa in the sitting room. They would laugh and shove the other on the shoulder every now and again, sometimes the short one (Ryan!, she thought) would get frightened by a creak in the old wooden hallways causing his friend to rest a comforting hand on his thigh and promise him spirits were nothing more than a work of fiction. Hearing him promise things like 'we can go home soon' and 'I won't let any ghosts get close to you' made her stomach sink. She could never go home, this was her home now and she was the ghoul causing all this pain to the brown haired man, by simply existing!

She sighed and leaned back into the arm chair she'd draped herself across. To say she sat in the seat wouldn't be exactly correct, it was more like hovering above. She stared at the two on the sofa in envy. You take for granted the little aspects of being alive. She figured they never even thought twice about the fact that they could rest their weight on the object rather than ghost nearby it. They could interact with the solid walls like brick should do without their arms passing through. They could walk right out of her front door just as they walked in and never have to see the insides of the little home again. Olive could pass through all the walls in this place but all she really wanted to do was walk out through the doorway like everybody else and escape the cage she'd been promised to for all eternity.

"You're seriously telling me you aren't the least bit scared right now?" Ryan asked his friend, gesturing towards the room.

"No," the other man responded "because ghosts aren't real". He was tall and slim with sandy blonde hair, a defined nose and strong features. He didn't seem to be afraid of Olive or the house or any of it. Everything about him just seemed to scream strong. She couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous.

"We're still sitting in the room where a girl died though," Ryan pointed out "there's still a blood stain on the carpet for Christs sake!"

There it was. She felt the stabbing pain in her chest hit her like a strike of lightning. She knew her worn and torn garment hid purple ribs and bruises that blossomed over her legs. She was thankful that as a spirit breathing wasn't a necessity, that she didn't have to feel the pain with each intake of air. Her soul was a cage for her body just as her home had become a cage for her soul.

She could vaguely hear the men telling the story of how she died for the watching cameras. She winced as if the knife were still stuck in her chest, blood covering her bruised legs. She felt his rough knuckles against her soft cheek, blow after blow, never missing. Her legs felt weak under the strain of supporting her body weight, begging for release, to slide down the torn and tattered wall onto the soft warm rug. The white fabric looking so inviting, like with one touch it could swallow her up whole into the earth and she'd never have to return again.

What are the odds that this is exactly where she'd have to spend eternity. Caged in like an animal at a zoo performing for crowds of ghost hunters like these. Although, these ones seem different, she thought, slowly rising from her seat to gain a better view of the pair. She supposed the ghosting thing had a few perks as she floated slightly higher over the camera's and lighting to see the mens faces.

The dark haired man was explaining theories about who her killer may have been. Not that this interested her, she shuddered and thought she had a pretty damn good idea who'd done it. However, it was the excited buzz of his voice and light in his eyes that compelled her towards him. He wasn't mocking her like the others, it was almost like he was genuinely interested in her past. She shook the thought from her head as quickly as it had appeared. Nobody cared about her, not really, not anymore.

"Her dad?" the taller man responded painfully "thats rough"

Olive took in a deep breath. It didn't do anything, she didn't need the pass in and out of oxygen, but it was relaxing in a sense to imagine she was still alive.

Her father. The man who had brought her first dresses and a snow white rabbit on Christmas morning. The man who spun her around the backyard by her feet until she was dizzy and laughing. The man who taught her how to play the piano and insisted on hearing all her new melody's. The man who let her have her first sip of gin on one of the rare nights where he hadn't had any himself. That would be her first and last sip of gin.

"She seemed like a nice girl" one of the men mumbled snapping her out of her trance

"Yeah," the other added "I hope she's a happy ghost" to which his friend giggled and shoved him. Olive felt her lips tugging up towards a smile, something she hadn't done in decades.

She took another tentative step towards the sofa to examine the pair further. They didn't laugh at Olives expense or falsify their relationship for the still active cameras. The way they treated her history, her house, her very sofa they sat in this moment could be described as nothing less than respectful. They seemed like they really cared about her. It was odd. She watched the way the taller man stared at his friends movements with keen interest, she watched his eyes dart towards the others lips now and again as he began another tale, she watched the way he would instantly comfort him when he noticed his fear escalating, and never failed to notice when that happened. It was certainly odd but she found she didn't mind the feeling, she actually kind of enjoyed it.

She stepped closer again. Her breath would be touching the dark haired man's neck now, if she needed to do trivial things like breathing. Even though she didn't so much as move she watched the baby hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His entire body stiffened as he unconsciously shuffled closer to his partner.

"Do you feel that?" he asked tentatively, as if he feared being laughed at. Olive felt a pang of empathy shoot through her as she slowly reached a hand forward to touch the mans skin. Her spirit merely passed through his solid form and she watched as a shiver shot down his spine.

"Feel what?"

"It just got really cold in here.." She instantly became conscious of her own presence and moved away from the pair again, not yet ready to see them leave.

"Ry it's the middle of the night, it's cold. Maybe it's a draft"

"We closed all the windows and doors it's not a draft Shane! You seriously don't feel that?"

Shane, she thought, it suits him. Ryan and Shane - ghosthunters. She smiled softly to herself resisting the urge to giggle.

Shane sighed. "Ollie if that's you can you please knock it off - you're giving my friend the spooks!"

"Don't call it Ollie! It probably hates us, we basically broke into its house!" Usually she hated the uninvited intruders breaking into her home in the middle of the night just to mock her walls five minutes in. She hated the false screams and accusations of her being cruel and disturbing when she really hadn't even been close to the crew at the time. She hated every pair of investigators that walked in and out of those doors - except these two. She couldn't quite place it but she found herself almost happy they were there.

"Nonsense she likes us, don't 'ya Ol," Shane laughed calling into the open room. Olive smiled giddily thinking about the fact that they were addressing her, that for the first time in decades somebody may almost come to care about her. "If you like us make a crash or something, communicate with us"

An excited buzz coursed through her veins where her blood once gushed. She snapped her head around to the wall behind the sofa. The wallpaper was old and tattered, it was lined with family portraits of herself and her father. Using all her strength she gave it a rough shove. It only lasted a matter of seconds but to her it felt like an eternity. The walls shook and the picture frames she hates so much shook violently. The banging sounded loudly through her head, like a sweet melody on replay. The sound of her calling for help and finally someone was there to listen.

"Holy Shit." she rushed forwards again to capture the look of shock on the the pairs faces. "Holy. Fucking. Shit" Ryan continued, fear radiating off him. Olive was sure to not stand too close to him again and terrorise him with those stupid cold spots. She wasn't that cold was she?

The room was silent for a few seconds after that, as if nobody was brave enough to break the moment and confront the evidence. She waited excitedly on the tips of her toes, leaning towards Shane when he suddenly let out a howl of laughter.

"How the fuck are you laughing right now dude?!" Ryan cursed back at him however she noticed there was no venom in the words. She marveled at how the tall man could drastically change the other man's mood in a matter of a few moments without saying a single word.

"She likes us Ry" he giggled and lighting punched his friend in the arm, for no bigger reason than for an excuse to touch him, a physical anchor to say 'hey im still here, right by your side like i always am'.

"Stop talking to her and stop calling me Ry, you goofball" Ryan sighed with a soft smile shoving his friend away from his side, somehow regaining his confidence in only a matter of seconds. His voice still wavered and his movements were shaky but he was okay. He was alive, that was more than could be said about herself.

"Olive likes my nicknames dont 'ya Ollie" Shane called again. Olive was sure to knock a gentle rattling against the coffee table in front of the boys, loud enough to give her approval but soft enough to not scare Ryan out of his bones. She did like the nickname, it almost felt like she was a child again in the school courtyards, making friends. Was she making friends?

The boys burst into another fit of laughter and started bickering again about the real causes of the sounds. She decided she wouldn't mind making friends tonight.

"Houses make noises RyRy"

"They make noises, they don't violently rattle picture frames"

"Maybe its a strong house"

"Or a strong ghost?" and their bickering continued like that for a long while. It was going to be a long night, Olive decided.


	2. Chapter 2

"All a skeptic is is someone who hasn't had an experience yet."   
— Jason Hawes

 

This wasn't Olives first encounter with ghost hunters, nor, she assumed, would it be her last. That's why the scene of two grown men arguing over a wooden board game wasn't surprising anymore.

"This is a child's toy Bergara" Shane sighed again, bringing a hand to his forehead to massage the headache already forming there "you can't talk to a ghost with something you bought at Toys R Us"

"There have been countless witnesses who can confirm these things really work!" Ryan argued and Shane continued to work at the pain in his head, Olive thought he were doing it more for dramatic effect or purely just to see his friends face tint a new shade of pink and his eyes shine as he started on the research he cares so much about.

"I don't care what a bunch of crazies say!You can't contact a ghost with something that says 'made in china' on the back" Actually you could. Well sort of. Olive found herself for the first time hoping the boys might actually put the Ouija board to use. The fact that she almost wanted to speak to them directly should have been extremely worrying but she found she just didn't care.

"Just do this with me Shane, even if you don't believe just-" Ryan's voice broke. Olive was sure to take another tentative step back, it was obvious she wasn't the cause of this outburst but she couldn't ignore the push in the back of her mind reminding her what she was, what they were. "Please?" he sighed.

Shane gave him a tentative nod and a soft "fine, let's get this over with." She wondered how one word, one request, could completely shift his standpoint without a second thought. If Ryan asked Shane to jump off a bridge with that shy tone and desperate look, he'd probably do it without a second thought.

Olive had been in love once. It was 1915, his name was William, he played Jazz. Olive never knew she liked jazz until Willy, because when she said she didn't care for it his eyes would widen and his cheeks would heat up, he'd flail his arms around and tell her tales about his band, and his father's band, and his grandfather's band. And he would smile, and she would smile because he was smiling, and eventually she found Jazz wasn't all that bad if it could make him smile like that for a little longer than usual. Looking at the men sitting ahead of her, cross-legged on the carpet where she passed, board game ahead of them looking like children, she saw that same love in everything they did.

The men placed two fingers each onto the game piece and proceeded to chant some stupid poem Ryan was positive is needed for the process to work, however Shane was positive he'd read that off the back of a kids instruction manual therefore any and all of its possible legitimacy was forfeited.

"We're speaking to the spirit of Olive Thomas who resides in this home," Ryan started and Shane rolled his eyes, she smiled softly watching the way they interacted, just the small things like their relaxed posture in one another's presence and strong speaking tones, not out of fear to assert themselves but coming from an actual place of security. She wondered what that felt like. "Do you wish to communicate with us?"

Most everything about them reminded her of him. His soft hair and blue eyes, his croak voice in the mornings compared to whispers late at night, the way he would take her hand and assure her she'd be okay whenever she worried about her father. He promised they'd find a house in the country somewhere and runaway, a big house with cattle and crops, they'd make a new name for themselves, not as actors and musicians but farmers or miners, something simple and easy, something safe. He made her feel safe.

She thought about the way Shane made Ryan feel safe with a few words and gentle touches. She thought about the fact that the only thing making him scared originally was her presence. He feared her the way she feared her father, and was comforted the same. The thought of being anything like him left her with an uneasy feeling, a desire to disappear. When you're living you have it so easy, the option to end your own life is always looming but to have no option at all was uncharted territory. She found even she was afraid of herself.

"Sorry to rain on your little ghost parade," Shane spoke after patient minutes of silence had passed "but the magic table isn't moving. The ghost maybe aren't up for a chat just yet." Ghost? Shit she's the ghost she's the talker the talking she supposed to do that right...What was the question again?

H-E-L-L-O

The room fell silent again. Tentative looks were shared between one and the other. Olive could feel her own cold ora taking over the room and found even she didn't like it very much.

"Did you do that?"

"No, you did"

"Fuck off Shane that's not funny"

"I didn't do it!"

"Well neither did I!"

Another quiet moment passed. This time the air wasn't thick with fear or judgement, just questions. The men glanced around the room as if they were taking it in again for the very first time. Like they didn't know what to trust.

"Olive did you do that?"

Y-E-S

"Shane stop it!" Ryan yelled. Well she figured he was attempting to yell but it was more of a shaken whisper. Like punishing a child for doing wrong, when deep down you know they don't understand the situation. She thought they we're both so very similar to children.

"It wasn't me! She just admitted to it, tell off the ghost!" She shook her head with a small smile, most definitely children, most likely love.

"uh- h-hello, hi Olive, Ms Thomas, Do you prefer Ms Thomas or maybe Tom or-"

O-L-L-I-E

"Shane!" He scowled, causing a small laugh to bubble up from her stomach "It's one thing to mess with the investigation but seriously? you're pretending the ghost likes your dumb nicknames?"

"It isn't me Ryan!" Shane started with a serious tone, one he hadn't taken very often that she'd noticed, at least never on the topic of herself. Something in the shorter man's face shifted as he came to a sudden realisation.

"So you're saying it's a ghost?" He asked in awe.

"No-" Shane began again before cutting himself off, how one could become a paranormal investigator without believing in the paranormal was beyond her yet it made her that much more curious about the men "look, i'm just saying... I don't know, i guess i have no explanation for it," Ryans eyes lit up and his lips quirked to a proud smirk before Shane finished with "yet! No explanation yet!"

The two shared a nervous laugh and playful nudge on the shoulder. There was still fear there, of the unknown and the new as there should be, but there was comfort in the little place they'd made for one another. There were unspoken promises in that laughter that she could never begin to understand, like they had their own languages nobody else was allowed to intrude on. She was still in the room but in that moment it was nothing more than just Shane and Ryan, best friends, maybe more, maybe just not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

"I have always been interested in the paranormal and afterlife, everything from ghosts to angels. I think that everyone has that curiosity of the great unknown."  
\- Hilary Duff

 

"Do you like being a ghost?"

N-O

"Of course she doesn't like being a ghost Shane what kind of question is that?" Ryan laughed shaking his head at his friend, as if the happenings of spirits was nothing more than common knowledge.

The two had been playing with the Ouija board for a while now, enough that Ryan had grown comfortable in the activity as to not jump everytime Olive moved the game piece. Also more alarmingly enough that Shane was genuinely engaging, asking questions and receiving answers he knew for a fact Ryan couldn't fabricate. Yet he still persisted that the whole game was full of nonsense, as he would.

"I'd like being a ghost I think" Shane replied earning a chuckle from his partner and a long winded tale about the features of being a spirit that even Olive got bored of quickly.

"You could be a ghost and you still wouldn't believe in the supernatural" Ryan laughed. Neither of them seemed to notice the camera on the tripod across the room running out of power and charging down, they just continued their 'investigation' (chatting) as usual. She found it odd how they were content in just her company, usually if an investigation was threatened you'd call it a day right? So why would they stay, surely not just to speak with her?

"If I were a ghost I'd haunt your ghost". Their easy banter was like something she'd seen in a film, like a script she'd once been given for a romance scene in an old play, an easy going back and forth that only true chemistry could write. Olive had been in love before, sure, but not like this. She didn't really know what this was, but she was dying to find out.

"a ghost can't haunt another ghost that's ridiculous!"

"that's the kind of talk that'll get you on the haunting list Ry," Shane smiled and his gaze softened, "back me up here Ollie!" it was like she was allowed passage into a moment between two lovers. They finally knew she was there and actively invited her to participate, and yet it was still so intimate and private, something soft and envied by everyone. They had what everyone, dead or alive, wanted and yet they ignored it?

G-A-Y

"...Olive are you gay?" Ryan asked tentatively not fully understanding the question she was proposing, "which is fine by the way!"

Y-O-U

"The ghost just called you gay dude" Shane wheezed doubling over in laughter where he sat. She shook her head at their antics as they argued back and forth like kids about who and what had been targeted. Like anyone could be this in denial.

B-O-T-H

They stared at each other in disbelief, tentatively waiting for one of them to break the ice. It wasn't tense but maybe awkward. Like a mother had walked in on her teenage son and his boyfriend home alone one night. She giggled to herself at the thought of her playing parent for the night, a ghost as a matchmaker and they still can't get together.

"N-No we're not-"

"It isn't like that-"

"But- No- R-Ryan has a girlfriend!" Shane sputtered loudly ending the bickering defence race. Ryan didn't have a girlfriend, she thought, she would have been able to sense that. Surely she wasn't that slow.

"About that.." Ryan started eyes darting to the floor "we're not really.. together exactly, anymore" She knew it. She wasn't one to say i told you so, but she totally told him so.

"Oh.. Im sorry Ry" Shane started, abandoning the board to lay a comforting hand on his friends thigh. She watched the blood rush to Ryan's cheeks as he slowly leaned into the touch. As if these idiots aren't in love! she thought. 

"No, no its cool" Ryan shook his head softly, slowly raising his gaze again to make eye contact with his friend "she said I didn't seem interested anymore? She kept saying she knew I wanted someone else and she wanted me to be, you know, happy?" He scoffed, using an accusing tone as if it were obvious how happy he already was, which Olive knew wasn't actually very much.

"Who-" Shane started before snapping his mouth closed again, looking for the right words, as if they'd suddenly come to him in the form of a novel if he would just pause and wait. "Who's the other person? The one you want?" His gaze was stern but still relentlessly kind. It was protective in a way that still made Ryan feel safe. Similarly to how his height could make him seem strong and powerful but his awkward limbs and poor posture was so perfectly Shane that it had Ryan falling back into that comfortable bubbly feeling labeled 'Shane' in the back of his mind, never to be thought about for too long, or else.

"I-" Ryan's voice was quiet in the still room, Olive had only seen him take that tone when frightened of her, but this time he seemed scared out of his skin for a completely foreign reason. He cleared his throat again and finished "I don't know."

Shane smiled softly at him, causing Ryan to smile back because that's just Ryan and he really can't help but smile around Shane. And so if he maybe thought about that smile a little too much when his friend wasn't there to share it, well then maybe that thought could be locked away in the Shane file in his mind with the bubbling feeling and the butterflies, kept for a rainy day.

"Well," the taller man smiled, removing his hand from the warmth of Ryan's worn and torn jeans, back to his game piece grounding him once again in the moment "keep your eye out buddy, your true love could be right under your nose!" he laughed with the same radiant smile, the same soft accompanying noise as ever, the laugh that brought those stupid butterflies back and seriously could they just go away for 5 seconds please!

"Yeah," Ryan laughed back "he could be" and if Ryan put a little too much emphasis on the pronoun 'He' in that statement for someone who had just fought for his heterosexuality tooth and claw, well then that was for Shane to worry about later, but he couldn't deny the spark of hope and excitement it lit in the pit of his stomach.

L-O-V-E

"Shut Up Ollie!"


	4. Chapter 4

"I do believe in the paranormal, that there are things our brains just can't understand, things bigger than you and me and all of this"  
\- Art Bell

 

They've tried the Ouija board, they've tried the spirit box, the infrared camera's, the motion detectors and the black light. They're tried the EVP, the UVA and the EMF - and Shane is still a skeptic. Olive told them secrets and statistics and details impossible for anyone or anything else to tell, yet here they were, still bickering like an old married couple.

("what's newtons third law? what's ryans mums name? What did beyonce name her twins? what's the speed of light? what's my favourite colour? why is water wet?"

"seriously dude, you just tried to ask a ghost why water is wet!"

However Olive just proceeded to explain to him how liquids make surfaces wet due to the electrostatic forces between molecules and that what we feel as wetness is actually coldness as the water evaporates.)

The two men stood crowded around the small kitchen island, tinkering with the tools in their hands and reviewing some of their previous footage. It was getting late, sleeping bags had been rolled out over her carpet and dinner was underway - well sort of underway.

"Shane are you serious! I told you we could have ordered takeout on the drive over if you didn't pack dinner!" 

"I did pack dinner! It's not my fault the ghost doesn't have a microwave!" Rude, she thought, if she wanted a microwave she could totally have one.. Whatever that was.

"This house hasn't been touched for like 100 years dude, why would there be a microwave?"

"I'm sorry! What do you want me to say!"

"Whatever," Ryan sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Headaches tend to begin slowly then develop into pain radiating around your entire head - Shane however, was a whole new kind of pain in Ryan's ass, nothing slow about it "instant noodles aren't exactly dinner anyway."

Pasta? They were arguing over pasta? Oh, she could do pasta.

She travelled closer to the old wooden cabinets of the kitchen behind them. The kitchen, like everything else, like Olive herself, was old. The wood had splintered due to harsh treatment and as stained paint peeled where rot and dirt took it's place. She scanned the array of doors trying her hardest to remember the last time she actually did anything practical with the house, with herself.

With the slightest jerk of her head the small door rolled open slowly, like driftwood on the beach with the same softness new wood never has. The varnish that trapped its moisture must have been gone a few decades previously, maybe more, just tiny fragments remaining here and there. A creak so minor came in it's wake, quiet as a pin drop, impossible for any normal person to even notice. But Ryan's blood had been pumping with adrenaline all night, the constant fight or flight response roaring in the back of his mind only silenced for periods where he found it vital to listen in to every slight sound that goes bump in the night. Granted, every other time it'd happened tonight the sound was dismissed as the wind or a bird of some kind. Except, this wasn't a bird was it.

"Ollie," Ryan whispered in a stiff tone, cursing himself for sounding so timid "was that you?" The cupboard door was wide open now and inside sat a large rusty metal pot, chipped, damaged and collecting dust. She nodded towards the equipment and it clattered quickly, shaking like there were some sort of earthquake that affected only one object. It was quick and easy, like the approving nod of a girl desperate for someone to finally see her.

"Hey, a pot! Nice!" Shane laughed, gently knocking Ryan on the shoulder as he bounded forward and knelt down on the cool tiles to collect the bowl. It was heavy and cold to the touch but he seemed unfazed. Hell, he wasn't fazed by the literal ghost standing right beside to him so whats a piece of metal really worth? Shane stood again and carried the pot to the grimy old stovetop, and Ryan did not at all notice the way his shirt rose up a little over his stomach as he did so, exposing the soft pale skin of his abdominal as well as a faint trail of hair and God it damn Ryan stop it you're working! Oh something in this room is definitely working-

"Ryan? Are you even listening man?" Blood rushed to his cheeks as he suddenly realised how long he'd been staring. She could tell from his blush that just how much he really liked him. His usual even tone had a certain rosiness to it (she knew for a fact Shane found it was adorable) but this was different. This was almost as cute as it was incredibly amusing to watch.

"Sorry what?" He feigned a cough and a brought a hand up to his face, covering the heat he felt growing across his skin. Shane couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled out of his mouth but eventually ended with a small grin and a gentle wave of his hand to say, hey don't worry about it you freaking dork as if i could ever be mad at you. Okay maybe she read a little too much into that one.

"I said," Shane lifted his head triumphantly as if he'd made the most astounding discovery in history "we found a pot, that means I can cook dinner."

"We didn't find anything," Ryan argued, pointing a stubborn finger between the two of them before gesturing to the still open cabinet "the ghost wanted us to see that!" he urged and God that old wooden door really is annoying with all it's creaking and croaking, no wonder Ryan hated the sounds her old home made.

With the flick of her wrist the door slammed shut again and Ryan did nothing to hide his discomfort, letting out a high pitched yelp and taking fast steps backwards towards his friend, eye's never leaving the door. Olive noticed how they really were polar opposites, as Ryan's white knuckles gripped the counter top for dear life as Shane let out a howl of a laugh, doubling over at the sight of his friend so pale in the face. Ryan mumbled under his breath about the severity of the situation while his friend gave his all to try and compose himself.

Sure they're different, she realised, but they balance one another out. It was almost beautiful in a way. Messy and imperfect sure, but it worked for them. Her idea of beauty had always been written in stone, a perfect scene performed by the script, line after line delivered on beat, the raw simplicity of work done by the book. Williams idea of beauty was messily scrawled sheet music scattered generously around his office, a double bass sat tall in the corner of an overfilled bar, duke ellington and his orchestra. It wasn't long before she realised her idea of beauty was him. That messy and beautiful fit hand in hand, even if she'd been too blind to see it. She was not about to let these two be so blind as to miss out on what she did.

"Maybe the ghost just wants us to cook some ramen Ry." Shane laughed, reaching for his water bottle as well as the half opened packet of store brand instant noodles before Ryan could interrupt him with some dumb logic like 'we don't even know if the stove works you beanpole' or some other dumb ryan-like insult on his height that was annoying and not cute at all!

"Hey Ollie," Shane called into the void that was her house "you mind if we use your kitchen? I'll make you some ramen!" She was sold, bribery will get you everywhere - even if she couldn't technically eat. With the blink of an eye the kitchen stove beneath that tattered old pot lit up. The yellow flames flickered and danced with no thought of the oxygen or the fuel they consumed, which normally Ryan found calming but this time it achieved the opposite as his sharp breath stopped blank, caught in his chest.

Shane smiled watching the water begin to boil, "Thanks Ol," he laughed and knocked Ryan gently on the arm "Ryan can you go find me three bowls? We have a guest to feed!" Jesus Christ Ryan hated this house.


	5. Chapter 5

"If you knew that your life was merely a phase of your entire existence, how would you live? You'd live a gigantic, bold, fun, dazzling life. You know you would. That's what the ghosts want us to do – all the exciting things they no longer can."  
— Chuck Palahniuk

 

This was weird. Even Olive would testify to how freaking weird this night was.

Shane made true on his promise just like he said he would, three steaming bowls of ramen sat around the creaking wooden dining table with cutlery and water glasses surrounding each one. The two men sat silently, frozen in their seats gawking at the sight. For the first time in forever, Olive felt awkward under their gaze, which was completely ridiculous considering neither of them could actually see her. Still she shuffled in her seat and averted her gaze back again to the table.

'Great meal you guys..' she sighed, knowing full well neither of them could hear her. It was like she was both present but also not there at all. They stared stunned at her with keen eyes even though what they really saw was an empty chair and the sound of metal chiming as she rested her fork against the chipped china bowl occasionally.

Although from her end, the night seemed to take a twist for the more tense and weird, it was nothing compared to the night her favourite ghostbusting duo were having. Ryans blood ran cold when he saw the empty wooden chair saved for Ollie move sharply backwards and then forwards again unprompted, as if someone had dragged it towards themselves, taken a seat and politely tucked then their chair in under the table again. That move even had Shane on his toes but that was just the small talk compared to the main course.

Every now and again Shane and Ryan would share a sideways glance at one another, just to make sure the other one saw that they we're watching. And yes, they sure were. Now from her perspective the act of picking up her designated fork, collecting a pile of noodles strung loosely to her utensil and then bringing it up to her mouth was normal. She wasn't exactly able to eat but the movement of bringing food to her face as if she were able to take a bite, and then lowering it down again as if it wasn't there anymore and she would be able to retrieve more, it was comforting. Like there was still blood pumping through her veins and food, warm and flavourful on her tongue. To sit at a table with living, breathing people and act the same way as they did was nostalgic. She liked it.

Until she realised all the boys could see was a floating metal fork, lifting a pile of pasta upwards before dunking it back into the bowl, retrieving a new one and dropping it back again. Occasionally the half full glass of water would float up to the same level the fork did, angle downwards and pour splashes of water onto the wooden chair, only to then be placed back down again on a cup holder, out of respect for the glassware of course. She was a ghost, not a truant.

Yeah okay, this was weird.

"You know Ryan," Shane was the first one to breach the silence. It was tense but not out of fear, maybe just genuine awkwardness? "I'm struggling to find an answer to this one." Awe and breathlessness was shared around the room as they waited for the dream to end, for the two of them to wake up at home, safe and comfortable. It never came.

"Any other time I'd love to hear you admit that ghosts are real, but this is just-" Ryan paused to let out a heavy breath he didn't know he'd been holding "this is too weird." he sighed, dropping his fork onto the table with an obnoxiously loud clatter. He suddenly had no appetite.

Shane stared at his friend as he shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, whole body visibly tense and skin pale, missing the natural warm blush that usually painted his cheeks an inviting shade of pink. His lips were peeling from being bitten all night out of anxiety and his hands trembled ever so slightly where they sat perched under the table.

Tentatively Shane stretched out his palm, never breaking eye contact with the empty chair he slowly found his way to Ryan's knee bouncing in a nervous habit he picked up as a child somewhere. His hands were frailty and caution, fingers twitching gently every so often, reaching upward as if towards something.

In an instant Ryan's hand bolted from a clenched fist sitting tight in his lap to perched lightly on top of Shane's own. He knew his hands were clammy and shaking ever so slightly and yet he couldn't find it in himself to care. Not compared to how painfully he need physical contact, an anchor holding him in reality, the warm safety of someone else's skin on his. Olive hadn't felt it in decades, so she chose to ignore the sharp pang of jealousy in her gut and opted to put it to good use and make sure these two got to experience life for everything it's worth while they still could, to experience life together.

"How about this," Shane smiled softly, gazing down at their entwined hands then back up to catch his best friends eyes, full of hope and longing. She took a moment to recognise how only a mere moment ago those same eyes held fear and dread, then Shane speaks three words and all that anxiety and evil is gone? Fascinating. "It isn't dinner without conversation, how about we try the ghost box again?"

"I don't know Shane i just-" his shoulders tensed and his grip on his friends long fingers tightened, if only for a second before relaxing again at the sound of his voice.

"Look, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." it was strange how a few choice words from the taller man's mouth could completely change his demeanor. Shane probably had no idea what he was saying, no direct contact between his mouth and his brain forming perfect coherent sentences to ease a logical thinker like Ryan. It was like he merely spewed any half decent thought he could muster in the moment and it worked just fine. Because they were his words from his mind out of his mouth and it was just all so perfect Shane. So Ryan drank his words in like strong wine and enjoyed getting tipsy. "She clearly doesn't want to hurt us or she would have done it already, right? What harm could it do?"

"I mean- okay I guess," with those words of confirmation Shane's small smile grew ten times the larger into a full blown grin "but I don't I'll be able to get it". Ryan gestured lamely to his lower half with his free hand, Shane wasn't sure if he was he was referring to his tense legs still trembling occasionally and surely not able to support his own weight, or if it were a more direct reference to the state of their linked hands. He found himself secretly hoping for the later, which if they never did this again? Shane sure as hell wasn't going to ruin this before it's even started.. Whatever this is.

Olive rolled her eyes at this, their obliviousness was so extreme she even contemplated it being sham, but she knew better than anyone that there's no reason to deny yourself happiness like that, not while you still can. While it's still there, clutching your hand with white knuckles and a fierce intensity, sharp features that soften with a single glance at your face, a gentle expression of admiration taking over for a moment and leaving just as quickly as it came.

Olive lazily lifted a finger at the small black machine that resembled or father's old radio, urging it towards her. And just like that, with the flick of her wrist, merely moving a muscle, the box was in the air and slowly navigating through the crowded kitchen, gentle movements both in fear of breaking the tech as well as breaking Ryan's entire being. It landed softly as if it'd be placed like a feather by an angel and Ryan couldn't even bring himself to feel afraid.

Afraid of a young girl, who made them dinner and played truth or dare with them through an ouija board, a girl who brought him his property sheerly because he expressed not being too keen on doing it himself, his friends wouldn't even do that! Was she a friend? Well, actually Shane did that for him on occasion. Suddenly painstakingly aware of Shane's pulse beneath his fingertips, his pale skin warm and soft, Ryan had to ask himself, was he a friend? Is that all he wanted him to be?

"Hey check it out Ry! She's like a little maid," Shane laughed waking him from his imagination, a maid? Clearly it was a joke and Olive took no offence to it, hell she lived through the prime of sexism, nothing offended her anymore. Shane didn't refer to her as a friend of course he didn't do that she's a dead woman for crying out loud Ryan!

"Thanks Ollie!" Shane smiled and suddenly the lights on the box started flashing as it roared to life, like it was her way of saying 'you're welcome'. Calling the ghost by a nickname probably wasn't helping with his mental friend or foe debate, God what would Father say about this.

"What'dya say miss Thomas," Shane spoke loudly and clearly into the speaker as if it would in anyway affect what she heard, a fact she found hilarious letting out a small giggle that somehow made it's way back out through the speaker behind the crackling and buzzing of differing channels "You ready for a chat?"

A faint voice that sounded awfully like "Always, Shane" resonated through the box, shocking Olive considering she'd never really used one of these before, sure people came in and out of her home with them but she'd never actively try to engage with those morons. Why bother, if she'd learnt anything is how some men can treat her like garbage, a clip for a show and then a painful visit from an exorcist to repay her for her troubles, no thank you! But maybe this was different, she thought maybe they were different. Maybe they thought she was different?

Ryan sure thought she was something. Watching the way she made easy conversation with his best friend over a radio, as if they'd known each other for years, as if Shane was never a skeptic and openly committed to cases like this all the time, the way they bounced back and forth off of each other made something in his stomach flip. Something inside him said, maybe she is different?

He'd always thought the essence of anything supernatural was scary, but maybe, just maybe, she was scared as well? Like when you see a spider as a child and your mother places a warm hand on your shoulder and reassures you that 'they're just as scared as you are, to them we are the monsters'. He thought about her father and all the monsters she truly had faced, then he thought about the way she treated them like guests despite knowing nothing of their intentions at all. And he thought, maybe, just maybe, if he could overcome a fear of spiders, he could overcome this one too.


	6. Chapter 6

"Death is no more than passing from one room into another."   
— Helen Keller

 

"Shane, this is insane!" Ryan laughed, shoving his friend lightly on the shoulder and totally ignoring the spark he felt whenever they touched that completely was not noticeable at all or thrilling, and Ryan you teenager will you calm down already! "Did you keep the conversation transcript? There's no chance Brent will believe us without that!"

"Of course I have the transcript, what do you take me for? An idiot" Shane did his due diligence in shoving his friend back, maybe a little harder than necessary but the resulting yelp was thanks enough in his books. Not to mention the way his hand tightened ever so slightly on his shoulder in attempt to stay upright, warm and secure and there.

"I wouldn't be the first" Ryan shot back, and of course, Olive rolled her eyes for the thousandth time that night

"Ouch Ry, Im wounded" he placed a hand lightly over his heart in mock offencive, even going as far as to flinch at the touch and share with his friend an accusing pointed glare that had Ryan in a fit of giggles, "You see this wound Bergara! You did this to me!" always the dramatist

"Just give me the script you dork" Ryan snorted, reaching across the taller man's body to snatch the file straight from his grasp, feigning recognition when Shane responded with a loud gasp and a mutter something about plain old common courtesy, have some respect!

TRANSCRIPT OF GHOST BOX RECORDINGS (MARCH 24)

Courtesy of Buzzfeed Unsolved

Season 3, Episode 15

568 Waverly Court, New York City

March 24th, 10:49pm

SHANE: testing testing, one two three... is this thing on?

RYAN: what the hell are you doing? It's not a toy okay, it's a sophisticated piece of scientific equipment!

SHANE: yeah yeah, something about manipulating radio waves I know I know - this isn't my first rodeo pal

EVP: you two bicker like an old married couple.

(silence)

RYAN: Shane...

SHANE: uh, yeah

RYAN: don't you dare tell me that was a fucking bird.

(wheeze)

EVP: why are you writing?

RYAN: Oh, this? It's uh.. It's a transcript for our editors, the cameras are rolling but they sometimes prefer it on paper? They do an editing thing with it, like writing on a screen it's kind of...um....

RYAN: Is that okay with you? I can stop right now if it's not?

SHANE: why are you so considerate of the ghosts feelings but never mine? Why can't you be this nice to me during the hotdog saga?

RYAN: because you're a giant child in a grown man's body? And also the hotdog bit is insanely dumb and I refuse to encourage it.

SHANE: You take that back right now!

EVP: Hot...dog?

RYAN: Dont ask

SHANE: At least someone appreciates my craft...

EVP: what is EVP?

RYAN: oh, um, electronic voice phenomena? It's what we call voices from spirits on tape recorders and stuff

SHANE: It's you Olive!

EVP: Ollie

SHANE: I think she wants to be called by her real name dude

RYAN: Olive Thomas?

EVP: Just Ollie.

SHANE: I gotta say, I'm loving the nickname Ol, it suits you

OLLIE: Just Shane?

SHANE: Yeah, I mean Shane Madej if you're my mum, or Shaniac if you're a skeptic

OLLIE: You don't believe?

SHANE: Well I mean- I do now it's just-

OLLIE: Yes or no

SHANE: Y-Yes okay fine! I believe in ghosts, are you happy?

RYAN: Woah

SHANE: Shutup. She just ate my ramen, I'm skeptical but I'm not blind.

RYAN: Woah.

OLLIE: Woah?

RYAN: Very woah. I can't believe you just said that. Shane Madej just admitted openly on film for the world to see, that ghosts are in fact 100% real. The boogaras have won, I can't believe this.

SHANE: you didn't do anything shortstack, it was all Ollie, you get zero credit for this.

OLLIE: boo-gara?

SHANE: it's like Shaniac, but for idiots.

RYAN: It means you believe in the existence of spirits. You know boo, like a ghost says "boo" kind of thing..

OLLIE: that's an offensive stereotype.

(silence)

OLLIE: I'm joking? Don't have to be so scared.

(wheeze)

RYAN: I'm sorry Olive- Uh Ollie, sorry. We're just not used to actual real life spirits...

OLLIE: You're ghost-hunters?

RYAN: About that... We've never actually caught anything...

SHANE: Until today, my amigo!

OLLIE: I'll be famous?

RYAN: Maybe?

SHANE: There's a pretty good chance after this one goes up

RYAN: Is that okay with you? We can always stop..?

OLLIE: People will.... See me?

RYAN: I mean, sort of? They'll hear you and watch the way you move things.

OLLIE: Good people?

SHANE: Ollie, I can assure you, the Shaniacs are the nicest people you will ever meet. Incredible taste, great sense of humour, keen eye for science, zero bullshit tolerance-

RYAN: Don't listen to him Olive, we won't let anyone hurt you if that's what you're worried about?

OLLIE: People can be... scary

(silence)

SHANE: Everything is scary Ol, heck us idiots think ghosts are the scariest things in the world, have you seen our movies?

RYAN: He's got a point, most of them are just scared. Like seeing a spider!

OLLIE: Hey! Spiders are friends!

RYAN: not the point, but okay.

SHANE: dude! Stop pissing off the ghost

RYAN: if anyone's pissing off the ghost it's you!

SHANE: How dare you, Ollie loves me!

RYAN: Not as much as show loves me, you didn't even believe in her an hour ago!

SHANE: I gave her a nickname! She'd probably die for me at this point in our friendship!

RYAN: That makes no sense! Do you even understand what a ghost is?

SHANE: You make no sense!

RYAN: W-What?!

SHANE: You heard me!

RYAN: I heard you being dumb!

SHANE: You are what you eat!

RYAN: What is wrong with you?!

SHANE: I'm sorry did i stutter?!

OLLIE: Guys!

(silence)

OLLIE: I told you! Old married couple!!

RYAN & SHANE: Shut-up Ollie!


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't spend a lot of time thinking about scary demons, but I think that there are things in this world that are unexplainable that are paranormal."  
\- Katie Featherston

 

RYAN: No! The bear can attack from five points, mouth and four paws, the shark has only a mouth

SHANE: All the shark has to do is bite the bear's legs out from under him and the fight's over. Didn't you see Jaws?

OLLIE: who's Jaws?

RYAN: But the bear has the physical advantage, they're easily the most dangerous animals on the planet!

SHANE: Strength doesn't matter, bears are stupid! The bear's lookin' for some salmon, little fishies. Probably just wouldn't mess with the shark unless attacked.

OLLIE: Hello? Who is Jaws??

RYAN: what? No, that argument sucks! Ollie, tell him that argument sucks?

SHANE: we both know Ollie's team shark

RYAN: she never said that!

SHANE: didn't have to, we have a connection

RYAN: You have no connection

SHANE: How would you know?

OLLIE: Does it really matter? This scenario could never happen!

SHANE: Hey! Don't kill my dream, Ol. It might happen...

OLLIE: If the bear can stand in the water then the shark is dead. If the bear has to swim then the bear is dead.

RYAN: Okay but say theoretically they somehow still had an equal advantage despite land or sea, then who wins?

OLLIE: ...probably a Hippo?

(SILENCE)

SHANE: I can't believe this

RYAN: No way!! I'm leaving!

SHANE: This is like the Sallie House all over again

RYAN: That place was haunted!

SHANE: So is this one!

RYAN: Yeah but Olive is....Well she's....

OLLIE: Friend

RYAN: What?

OLLIE: I'm your friend... right?

RYAN: Um.. yeah, I mean.... Yeah I'd say so

SHANE: ...I'm friends with a ghost

OLLIE: I'm friends with a person!

SHANE: But this is different, you were friends with people when you we're-

OLLIE: alive?

SHANE: ...sorry

OLLIE: You can say it, I know what I am

RYAN: It's not a bad thing Ollie! I think it's a little like... Like you get another chance, you know? You can do the things you couldn't do before

OLLIE: But I can't leave this house

SHANE: This house can be fun!

OLLIE: ... My blood is still in the carpet?

SHANE: ...right, yeah.... Right

RYAN: Shane?

SHANE: Yeah?

RYAN: Shutup.

SHANE: Yeah.

RYAN: What do you want to do Ollie, like if you could do anything.

(SILENCE)

OLLIE: I want people to see me

SHANE: deep

OLLIE: I want them to like me even though im-

SHANE: dead?

OLLIE: ...a ghost

RYAN: Shane what the fuck did I just say

SHANE: Shutting-up! Got it!

RYAN: Ol, I've got a feeling that doing this show, staying here with you and sharing this finding - i think it'll be good for you

OLLIE: they'll want to be my friends?

RYAN: Heck yeah! Hell even if they dont you've still got us, right shane?

SHANE: Sorry I thought I wasn't allowed to talk

RYAN: I never said that!

SHANE: Did so!

RYAN: You have no proof!

SHANE: I- What? The transcript is right there in front of you!

RYAN: Hey, this script is for professional use only, no peeking to win arguments

SHANE: We're going to read over this in like an hour and you're going to eat those words

RYAN: Yeah well, we'll see.

"Well.." Shane stared expectantly at Ryan, lips puckered with one hand on his hip waiting the answer he knew so well he would get.

As predicted, the two were sat in their sleeping bags rereading the final copy of the nights ghost box recordings. Ollie sat perched in a dusty arm chair to their left, with an old lamp lit up beside it to show the boys where she was.

The ghost box was still switched on, but by now it was mostly polite questions and friendly banter, nothing really worth recognition but more so to keep a sense of comfort warm in the air. Ollie thought it validated her legitimacy as a conscious being, Ryan thought it was polite and built mutual trust as well as a sense of equality, Shane thought he'd win more bickering battles if he had a friendly mediator on the air at all times.

"Whatever," Ryan grumbled, slowly standing and moving from his comfortable seat on the carpet to store the file with the rest of the evidence in his backpack "enjoy your victory, String Bean, because it'll never happen again"

Olive thought that 'Crush' was such an infantile word, invented by older folks with an interest in belittling young love. She looked at the two men before her and knew she witnessed more than a crush. The word itself implied breaking, violence, defeat, to crush something doesn't mean to love or to care for. It doesn't mean butterflies in your stomach, shy, and blushful. Your heart beating as you try to hide a smile. Skin tingling where they touched it, longing for that feeling back. That shouldn't crush you, that should ignite you, right? So by that logic, she wasn't witnessing a mere crush.

Olive traced Williams lip lightly with the tip of a finger. He pouts slightly, giving her an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap up in a quilt, just the two of them and listen to their gentle breathing, watching the cotton ripple like skipping stones and sharing crooked smiles. His lip felt slightly chapped under her feather light touches but she couldn't bring herself to give a damn. She doesn't look up, if she looked up she may find herself at the mercy of questioning eyes, pleading, begging to know what she was doing. She thought she wasn't at liberty to say because frankly, she didn't know. "Do I love you?" She questioned aloud, distracted by his shining eyes and silky hair. He couldn't form an answer with his lips because he were so focused on hers.

Then the memory passes, her eyes seeing once more, her ears hearing the here and now. She recognised that painful fixation, that fragility, that devotion, she saw all of that and more in the two men sitting ahead of her. And she thought, "It's not a bad thing Ollie, you get another chance, you can do the things you couldn't do before". That's what Ryan had said, he didn't seem the type to lie, hell why would he.

Maybe they called it a crush because eventually all lovers faced that same crushing torment she had to live with. The same torment she had to die with, and carries on everyday with the memory of. And maybe, just maybe, whoever decided she'd carry that burden, even after death, also decided that she could make that sacrifice so other lovers wouldn't have to.

It wasn't a bad thing, she had another chance, she could do the things she couldn't do before, she took one last fleeting glance at the pair before her before sighing in final realisation, she was going to help them do the things she couldn't do. And she was going to do it right freaking now.


	8. Chapter 8

"In Eastern culture, people see ghosts, people talk about ghosts... it's just accepted. And in Western culture it's just not. Don't you see the problem there?"  
— Jessica Alba

 

"Enjoy your victory, String Bean, because it'll never happen again" Ryan slowly made his way back towards the messy array of blankets and pillows they seemed to think counted as a makeshift bed, leaving the evidence sealed tight in a bag and ready to put a night of paranormal investigating behind him in favour of a full night's rest.

You can do this Ollie, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this. Wait how was she going to do this? Basically all she could do was lift stuff and then drop it again. Or that thing where she makes the walls shake, not exactly romance 101 though, plus it takes a hell of a lot out of her so it's a double no to that one. Once a kitten limped into her room with a broken paw and she helped her levitate so her leg wouldn't ache as much! But there weren't too many impaled kittens in the area right now and she was so not about to hurt a kitten. Would a hurt kitten even be romantic? Stop it you can't hurt a kitten! Right then, back to lifting things and dropping them again.

With the flick of her wrist she dragged Shanes night bag from the far corner of the living area to the spot directly ahead of Ryan's path. God, this is a dumb plan, she thought as she watched the heavy pack plop down again where she wanted it, but it was too late now, here goes nothing. Suddenly Ryan was as steady as a leaf in a storm, a baby taking it's first steps, that one scene in bambi where bambi doesn't exactly know how to stand up but she's trying her best and you get the gist. It felt slow, first Ryan's standing, then falling, then impact. His left foot should have extended to take his weight, instead it's caught on a duffel bag and his body is hanging loosely over Shane's own.

It worked?

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching the others glances that passed by. Ryan shifted uncomfortably, accidentally causing the wrong parts to rub up against the wrong parts of Shanes awkwardly stiff body.

It worked.

Ryan knew Shane was attractive, obviously he wasn't blind. But that thought seemed to always be overshadowed by his cheesy jokes or zombie limbs or just his Shane-ness that screamed 'Just a friend, a work colleague, an inappropriate person to call attractive anywhere outside of your own head', but now; being this close it was like meeting him again for the first time.

He noticed the faint dimple on his left cheek, his slim well sculpted nose, the remnants of a 3am shadow over his chin, his clear pale complexion, the brows that effortlessly framed his chocolate brown eyes; the chocolate that melts at the slightest bit of the heat from love, or happiness. When he would look at Ryan and smile the creases could frame them in perfect happiness, a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that warmth rushes his chest. The way his lips lifted upward. The way his one dimple crinkles. The way his teeth are perfectly aligned. The warm glow his happiness gives.

It was weird to think that beneath all the joking sarcastic exterior there was an attractive man staring back at his every time, what was even weirder was that same exterior somehow combined to make him more attractive in Ryans eyes. A friend he could laugh with, be himself around even if only for a matter of time, the person who made an actual haunted house feel like a castle, the person who made going to work feel more like a weekend than a monday morning and made going home feel more like an empty quiet room than the house that homed all of his secrets, his safety, even his girlfriend for a matter of time, the girlfriend who even after years together had never made him feel the way he felt in that very moment. 

 

Somehow accidentally ending up this close to his best friend felt more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced in any relationship to date. Maybe it's because of how soft his eyes looked, how sweet and innocent his expression sat, his lips gently sitting in a small 'o' shape, small pink lips chapped, broken and all and yet still the most alluring thing Ryan had ever been faced with, pink lips slowly moving closer and closer to Ryans own, soft eyes slowly closing shut, hiding his favourite coffee brown irises from view once again but Ryan couldn't find it in himself to care. All he cared about was the warm breath hitting his neck, reality slipping away slowly as he closed his own eyes and watched as world faded to black, a hand slowly making its way up his back, towards his neck, his hair, his head, holding it firmly in place as finally he felt a pair of small pink lips, chapped and broken, on his own, moving slowly and timidly.

They kissed and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Shane's hand now rested below his ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. He could feel the beating of his heart against Shane's chest, his own heart feeling light and warm and beating so fast it might even burst. And yeah maybe that could be embarrassing if Ryan had it in him to care about anything other than the sensation of lips and teeth and tongues awkwardly bumping together in the most oddly perfect way. 

This wasn't embarrassing. What came next however, that was embarrassing.

As quickly as it had started, as long as it lasted, the moment was gone just as fast. Shane suddenly pulled back, away from Ryan's lips, his skin, his beating heart that was suddenly beating fast but no longer in the good way. Definitely in the bad way. In the confused, anxious, fight or flight way, not the Shane way he'd grown quickly to like. Both feelings may have been Shane induced but one definitely trumped the other.

Ryan decided he liked Shane's lips up until he decided to start running them again.

"Shit!" Shane exclaimed, ungracefully scooting across the old stiffened carpet in attempt to get as far away from Ryan as possible, it seems where Ryans heart chose fight Shane took to flight. "Fucking shit! What the fucking shit Shane!" He yelled to himself, now sitting back stiff against the opposite sofa across the room, the one right next to Olives chair.

He angrily pumped a fist towards the table next to where she sat and punched the wood with all his strength. The lamp flickered once, twice, three times, and then fell black. The lamp that meant Olive was there, she was happy and accepted and open to communication. She decided this probably wasn't the kind of conversation she would be invited to and hell she was more than fine with that.

"Shane! Chill out, you've scared Ollie" Ryan replied in a warning tone, making an attempt to shuffle closer to Shane on the floor. This however, came to be a bad idea as Shane quickly stood up from his place, legs shaking and face pale he rested a hand on the wobbly table if only to steady himself before taking one final look at Ryan.

His soft features now stone cold, hard eyes fixed on Shane in attempted to gain power, but he could see through that, he could always see through Ryan. He could see the slight tremble in his lower lip, the shake in his voice when he spoke, the unsteady breaths he let out that sounded so loud as the house became so quiet.

He was still beautiful, he always was to Shane. He was like a glass figurine that took hours and hours of sculpting and dedication and love to build, perfect to the eye however still fragile underneath. Now he looked more like a pile of crystal dust - still glass, but broken and vulnerable to any disturbances. Still beautiful and still real, still able to smile and laugh and cry, to feel pain, but can't be broken anymore. Still there, but not like before. That's when Shane decided that as long as Ryan was still there, he couldn't be.

"I'm sorry" He whispered, let out in a heave of breath, held for far too long, holding far too much emotion for human lungs "I'm sorry, I can't stay here." And with that he stood on shaky legs and began to walk, maybe it was a run, Ryan didn't remember, he couldn't grasp anything outside of the repeating few minutes looping in his brain, the two words mocking him in his imagination, a breeze strong enough to blow away broken glass.

'I'm sorry' he'd said as he walked away.

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

Shanes heavy footsteps made their way from the living room, to the kitchen, to the front door. Ryan heard the lock twist and felt the cool breeze blow through. Soon he heard the heavy creaky wood open and close again, yet all he could think was 'I'm sorry'.

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'


End file.
